


Some Nights

by waitingtobelit



Series: with starry feet [7]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Puns, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingtobelit/pseuds/waitingtobelit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius is willing to go to ridiculous lengths to help cheer Courfeyrac up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble but um. It kind of escalated and basically became an excuse for me to bring out all of my favorite bad puns. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Les Miserables; this was written purely for recreational purposes.

Some Nights

Courfeyrac, perpetually cheerful Courfeyrac who is always helping others in need, often risking his own comfort for the sake of even a stranger, is sometimes in need himself. Sometimes he grins weakly at bad puns (and bad puns are his favorite). Sometimes, his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Sometimes, his smile falters altogether and the sheen in his dark eyes grows dull because of it. Sometimes, even when laughing at Grantaire’s antics, or engaged in philosophical debates with Enjolras and Combeferre, Courfeyrac’s shoulders slack, and his feet start to tap together in  a dizzy rhythm underneath the table.  Sometimes he frowns even  Marius makes a deliberate fool of himself for Courfeyrac’s benefit.

Tonight, Marius, taking in Courfeyrac slouching through the door to their apartment, his curly hair strewn about and new wine stains scattered across his uniform, is glad to have discovered the extra batter in their pantry earlier in the evening. (He hopes desperately that the chocolate chip cake will prove the ace up his sleeve in his efforts to combat his boyfriend’s sadness.) Courfeyrac barely even glances at him as he deposits his coat and shoes off to the side of the door, a half-hearted “hey” quickly muttered under his breath.

Marius takes this as his cue; he smiles to himself before pouncing like an overeager puppy.

“Marius, wha?” Courfeyrac barely gets the chance to question him as Marius throws his arms around his waist, pulling him into a series of spins as he peppers kisses all across his face and nuzzles determinedly at his neck. Courfeyrac doesn’t smile, but the corners of his lips twitch. Marius counts it as a victory.

“I don’t know if you had to deal with a plethora of assholes today, or if that sous chef was a dick to you again. If that’s the case, I’m going to kick his ass.” Marius says once they’ve stopped spinning, both a little out of breath. Courfeyrac rolls his eyes, which only adds to the spark in Marius’ gaze. He is making considerable progress in a short amount of time, and he got to use a fancy word on top of it. He can’t help but preen a bit.

“Regardless, you’ve had a bad day, and I’m going to try to make it better.” Marius moves his hands to tug at Courfeyrac, who still isn’t smiling, but his eyes brighten as he allows for Marius to pull him into their miniscule kitchenette.

Marius drops Courfeyrac’s hands (and is pleased to note the way Courfeyrac’s hands twitch as they part, along with a noise that might just be a low whine from his throat) and sashays directly in front of the covered cake.

“For your entertainment this evening, the theatre de Pontmercy presents dramatic reenactments of terrible puns.”

Marius bows, deliberately ignoring Courfeyrac’s exasperated “Marius, is that a bandage on your arm? Again?” as he inhales, briefly running through the (magnificent, really) compilation of puns he keeps stored in his desk for emergencies such as this. (And really, it’s only an average-sized bandage; he cut himself while putting the mixing spoon away, something that could happen to anyone, Marius is sure.)

“German sausage jokes are the wurst.” He pops up suddenly, contorting his face and arms into an exaggerated gesture of fear. He doesn’t look at Courfeyrac, but the snort that emerges from his direction proves encouragement enough.

“Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off?” Marius flails, hiding his left arm behind his back as he hops on his right leg. “He’s all right now.”

Another snort, and Marius’ grins widens. Only Courfeyrac can inspire him to make even more of a fool of himself.

“To write with a broken pencil is pointless!” Marius drops down on one knee at this, clutching his chest as he looks to the ceiling. Courfeyrac lets out a single giggle, and Marius refrains from pumping his fist in triumph.

He continues down the long list of puns, choosing each one based on Courfeyrac’s growing amusement. He finishes with, “I’m reading a book about anti-gravity; it’s impossible to put down!”

For this, Marius chooses to lean back, one hand extended as though glued to the spine of a thick book. He winds up overestimating himself, flailing and exclaiming “Oh _shit_!” as he falls to the floor.

He never hits it though, as Courfeyrac’s arms pull him safely back into the familiarity of his sturdy chest. Marius meets Courfeyrac’s gaze, all but back to its usual vibrancy, with a sheepish grin.

 “That part was improvised.” He explains as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. Courfeyrac only sighs.

“Oh Marius, what am I going to do with you?”

“Eat the chocolate chip cake I made for you?” Marius grins as Courfeyrac helps him to stand. He bounds away to the counter once he becomes steady on his own two feet again, holding the freshly baked cake out to Courfeyrac.

“You didn’t have to make me cake.” Courfeyrac, too, blushes, and his voice takes on something of a shy tone, a very rare occurrence indeed. Warmth bubbles through Marius at the sound, at the unspoken words underlying it.

“I wanted to.” Marius says as he strips the cake of its cover to reveal a sloppy “I love you” written across the surface in light-green frosting. From the way his cheeks burn, he knows his blush has only become prominent, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He does worry, though, when Courfeyrac says nothing for a long, few moments.

“Courfeyrac? Do you like – oomph!”

The cake flies off to the side as the weight of Courfeyrac abruptly pins him to the ground with the same amount of determination with which he saved him from falling on his ass minutes ago. Marius finds himself unable to speak as Courfeyrac kisses him passionately, stealing his ability to breathe steadily along with his words.

“I love you too, dork.” Courfeyrac murmurs against his lips before pulling back to kiss him sweetly on the nose.

And as Courfeyrac lowers himself to bring their lips together once again, Marius imagines Courfeyrac’s smile outshining even the moon.  


End file.
